As Long As I'm With You
by SpencerSwift8629
Summary: Spencer & Toby One-shot. FLUFF.


_One-shot. Fluff, because that's kind of the only way I roll. :P Hope you enjoy, and please, reviews are more than welcome! love you all with my life!_

The fight was becoming too much for Spencer Hastings to handle. Melissa's insults were beginning to prick her like needles, stabbing her harder with every word. And frankly, she was running out of comebacks.

Spencer couldn't even remember exactly how the fight had started. The sisters were home alone, as per usual. Spencer had said something in a sarcastic tone that Melissa had taken the wrong way, and it had progressed from there. Subjects floated viciously to the surface, taking turns…Ian, grades, their parents…Alison. Wren.

It was all about Melissa, all the time. The queen who could do no wrong. Everything Spencer did was 'horrific' and 'whorish' in comparison. Spencer had been dealing with this kind of ruthless torment for as long as she could remember, and she knew better than most people her age how to be strong…but sometimes, it went too far.

The next words out of Melissa's mouth were the ones that broke her.

"AND," Melissa screeched, "IF THERE'S ONE THING I COULD CHANGE, IT WOULD BE THAT NIGHT AT THE CHURCH. YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I _WISH _IAN HAD PUSHED YOU TO YOUR DEATH. IF HE HAD, I WOULD HAVE APPLAUDED."

That was it. The pain of her words crushed Spencer's resolve. She could feel tears brimming around her lashes, and she bit her lip so hard to try and keep them from spilling over that she could taste blood in her mouth. It tasted like rust, unfairness, and hatred. Without even thinking, she was on her feet, her body going through the motions of getting her out of that house, that building that had never truly proved to be her home.

It was only until she had walked half of the way to the end of her drive that she noticed the weather. It was around 3:00pm, and it had to be below freezing. It was a typical December day in Rosewood, and at this very moment it happened to be sleeting. Of course.

In her haste, Spencer hadn't even had time to put on proper shoes - she rolled her eyes as she appraised herself. Slippers, sweats, and a long sleeved top. She reached into the pocket of her sweatpants for her phone, but it was empty. She shivered.

At least she wouldn't have to read the malicious text that A had surely sent.

She was about to turn around. She couldn't go anywhere like this, especially without a phone… or car keys, for that matter. She stopped walking, and slowly began to twist on her heels to again face the nightmare she had just escaped from.

And that's exactly what it was; a living nightmare. With a definitive jolt, Spencer made a decision. She wasn't going back in there. There was nothing out here, in the quiet snowy streets of Rosewood, that could harm her more than what went on in her own house. She turned back towards the end of the drive, contemplating what she was going to do. She blocked from her mind all thoughts of Melissa, who was surely smirking at her from inside the front window.

Her heart felt empty, devoid of anyone's love or concern. As the pain skittered mercilessly across her chest, suddenly she remembered. A person. _The _person, a single person on this Earth. A boy, tender and kind, who treated her unlike any other. Only his blue eyes were completely honest as they gazed knowingly into her own; the tears escaped the tips of her lashes as she thought about those sapphire eyes. Only he understood her completely. Only he could put a smile on her face at a time like this. Only he knew how to use his heart to fill her empty, bruised one with love. True love.

Her breath catching in her throat, Spencer broke into a run.

Spencer was an athlete, so it wasn't as if she couldn't handle the three-block sprint to his house. The muscles in her legs were hard as rocks, and normally she enjoyed the feeling that coursed through them as she ran.

It was the _cold._

Spencer was absolutely freezing. The sleet had turned into large flakes of snow, and the wind was working against her, not unlike everything else in the world. Her eye lashes were frozen together, and the cold, dry air that whooshed in and out of her lungs continuously scraped again the sides of her windpipe. Her heart was beating against her chest, her clothes clinging to her body, soaked from the snow. But the worst part by far was the pain in her feet. Her slippers were drenched from running through the slushy streets, the icy cold liquid seeping through. Spencer's feet were numb, and with every new step a shot of pain raced up her leg. But still, she was determined. Keeping an image of his beautiful, flawless face at the forefront of her spacious mind, Spencer continued to run.

Finally, _finally _Spencer reached Ander Street, and her breath caught again when she saw his house, a lump of fear forming in her chest. What if he wasn't home? Or worse, what if Jenna _was_?

Approaching the driveway, Spencer released an icy breath of relief when she saw the tan Chevy truck parked against the curb. She sprinted to the porch, desperate to get to the door. It took much longer than it should have for Spencer to get up the 3 stairs, due to the fact that her entire frame was shaking, both from exhaustion and the extreme cold. Her teeth were chattering, and her hair was wet and snarled.

At last, she treaded across the porch to the door, and as she raised her hand to knock, she let out an uncontrollable gasp; her tiny hand was pale-blue in colour. She rapped her knuckles against the door as hard as she could, although the resulting noise was feeble. She trained her eyes on the door handle, waiting to see it twist. Less than a moment later, it did.

Spencer was so desperate to feel his warmth that she didn't even take a second to observe Toby's expression before she threw herself at him. His strong, warm arms caught her reflexively, but she felt him flinch violently because of how cold she was.

"Spencer!" Toby said in a tone thick with concern as he supported most of her weight, "Dear God Spencer, you're freezing!"

Spencer's only response were sobs. She was shaking uncontrollably in his arms, her cheek resting against his shoulder. Toby dragged her backward into the house, closing the door behind them, locking out the wind and snow.

"Spencer Hastings, what on Earth were you thinking?" Toby scolded, "It's below

Zero out there! Where's your coat? What happened to your car? Why didn't you _call _me sweetheart? I would have come and-"

"Hhh-hold mm-me, Tttt-Tob," Spencer struggled to interrupt his tirade, "Jj-just, hhh-holddd mmm-me."

Toby tightened his grip around Spencer's waist. "I've got you, Spence, don't worry, love. You're safe. Let's get your shoes off."

Toby's gaze dropped from her face to her feet, and he gasped, hastily lowering Spencer to the floor. He sat her town, teeth still chattering, and surveyed her sodden, frozen slippers. He yanked the legs of her sweatpants upwards, moving them out of the way. He tried to pull off Spencer's slippers as gently as he could, but still, as he did so, a low moan of pain hissed out of Spencer's lips. "I'm so sorry, baby," he said soothingly, "your feet are frozen Spence."

Once he had her slippers off, he peeled off her rigid socks, and Spencer's eyes widened with fear - her feet were even bluer than her hands. Not able to look at them, Spencer's gaze flitted up to Toby's face. His blue eyes were tense with worry and fear. His gaze met hers, and he shuffled closer to her, pressing his warm hand against her icy cheek. Her tears pooled against his thumb, and he wiped them away, kissing her forehead. "Don't worry, Spencer," Toby whispered, "its all okay. You're okay. Come here, baby." He stood up, gently lifting his girlfriend. Toby cradled her against his chest, and Spencer buried her face against his arm, closing her eyes. He carried her through the living room, and began to climb the stairs. Once he reached the landing he walked down a short hallway, and turned into a large bathroom. The walls were bright, adorned with a floral wallpaper, and the white countertops were spotless. There was a grandiose bath tub in the corner.

Toby set Spencer down on the floor again gently, staring into her eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

Another tear slipped down Spencer's cheek. If there was one question in the universe she knew the answer to, it was this one. "Yes," she whispered, "I also need you. And love you, more than anything."

Toby pressed his lips softly to hers. She tasted like winter. Spencer raised her hand to his cheek, and Toby held her cold fingers in place for a moment. "I love you too, Spencer," he said, pulling back. "We need to get you warmed up, now."

Toby stood. His shirt was soaked from carrying Spencer; he shrugged and pulled it over his head, exposing his flawless abdominal muscles. Spencer let out a fatigued giggle.

"What?" he asked her, his eyebrow raising.

"You're heating me up already," she said, smiling coyly.

He rolled his eyes. "Spencer, Spencer. What am I going to do with you?" he asked, his tone mocking.

She smiled, then yawned suddenly. "I could care less, really," she admitted, "so long as we're together."

Toby was kneeling over the bathtub, turning the golden handles, adjusting the temperature of the running water. He grabbed a container of bubble bath from inside cabinet, and dumped a vast amount into the stream. Once he was satisfied, he crawled across the tile to where Spencer was sitting. Spencer's eyes never left his face. He smiled lovingly at her. "Arms up," he ordered.

Spencer's heart began to pound again as she obliged. Toby clutched the sleeves of her wet long-sleeved shirt, and gently eased it over her head. He ran his hand down the length of her bare arm, raising a trail of goose bumps. "Can you stand?" he asked.

"Uhh.. Help me," Spencer answered.

Toby grabbed Spencer's hands and pulled her to her feet. Her knees wobbled. Toby used one hand to support her torso, and the other to pull down her sweatpants and underwear. She stepped out of them as he unhooked her bra.

As he cast it on the floor, Spencer pressed her bare torso against his. Although her skin was still cold to the touch, Spencer's insides were on fire. Toby began rubbing her back gently, swaying them back and forth. She leaned her face into his neck, inhaling his hypnotic, irresistible scent. He combed his fingers through her hair.

Contentment, unlike any form Spencer had ever experienced in her life.

Suddenly, Toby swung her up into his arms again, startling her in a good way. They kissed passionately as Toby carried her toward the tub. He broke their kiss to explain, "I didn't make it too hot, but the water might sting at first, because you're so cold, Spence. Ready?" he asked. She nodded. Slowly he lowered her so that she was submerged deep into the bubbles. She inhaled sharply as her skin first came in contact with the water, but after a few minutes it felt wonderful.

Spencer sighed with contentment, leaning her back against the side of the tub and closing her eyes. Toby sat near the opposite end, and lowered his hand in the water, searching for her foot. When he found it, he began to message it gently, rubbing his thumb against her heel. Toby smiled at Spencer's face, finally peaceful.

"So," he started, "Would you care to explain exactly which events led up to me finding an astonishingly beautiful, frozen little girl wearing no shoes or coat or mittens on my front porch?"

This morning's fight replayed itself in Spencer's mind while she sat in the warm water. Melissa's screams, her weak retaliations, the words that had pushed her over the edge… her eyes were still closed, but she pursed her lips as hot tears spilled from them. She felt Toby drop her foot.

Toby went to kneel behind the bathtub, so that his head was just above Spencer's, hers now leaning against his chest. "Hey, sweetie, it's okay," he stressed, kissing her forehead again. "Whatever it was, it doesn't matter now. You're with me … no one will touch you, Spence," he promised.

Spencer's heart was overwhelmed with love for the person huddling protectively over her. She couldn't imagine where she would be without Toby Cavanaugh in her life. She thought about everything the pair had been through, and all of the things that they might have to face one day. All of these things would try their hardest to break them; but as long as they had each other, nothing could.

After another 20 minutes of just being, sitting there together, Toby sat back on his knees, and began to play with Spencer's wet hair. She groaned. "What on _earth_ am I going to do with this mess?" she asked in a tone very Hanna-esque, gesturing to her knotted hair.

Toby laughed. "Don't worry about it, Spence. Are you warm now?" she nodded.

He got up and left the bathroom, returning in a flash, holding a very comfortable-looking men's bathrobe. Spencer smiled widely, eager to put it on. He set it on the counter and grabbed a large white towel off a nearby rack. Spencer stood carefully in the centre of the tub, and he wrapped it securely around her.

She giggled as he once again lifted her into his arms. "I'm pretty sure I can walk now, Mr. Hulk," Spencer teased.

Toby pressed his forehead to hers, "Well maybe I don't want to put you down, Mrs. Show-up-with-hypothermia-and-scare-the-shit-out-of-my-boyfriend."

Spencer kissed his nose. "Mmm, sorry about that," she said earnestly. "I just… needed you."

"There's this invention. Its called a telephone… dunno if you've ever heard of it…"

Spencer smacked his arm. "There was no time!"

"Uh-huh." Toby carried her to his room, bathrobe draped over her arm. He set her down. "Here, love. Put this on. I'll be back in two seconds."

Once she was alone, Spencer dropped the towel and put on Toby's bathrobe. It smelled amazing, and she concluded after wearing it for approximately 3 seconds that he was going to have to get a new one, because he wasn't getting this one back. Ever.

Toby returned holding a comb, with a look of seriousness on his face. "I have to tell you something," he said, "and you have to promise not to laugh, or accuse me of being gay."

Spencer fought to keep a straight face as she walked into his arms. "I think we've established by now," she said, pausing to kiss him, "that you aren't gay."

Toby smiled, sitting on his bed and arranging Spencer snugly in his lap, so that they were facing one another. "When I was little, up until I was eight," he started, "Me, my dad and my-" his face twitched with sadness, electrocuting Spencer's heart with pain- "mom lived in Tennessee. We owned a horse barn. My mom was crazy about horses," he explained. "She and I would ride the trails together, almost everyday after school. We only moved to the city once she…got sick."

Spencer intertwined her fingers with his, using her eyes to urge him to continue. "She was a coach, and lots of people took riding lessons at our barn. Every couple of months, we'd run a horseshow. It took a lot of time to organize everything, and I always had to help. I was glad to."

Toby's eyes looked distant, and Spencer knew he was remembering. She squeezed his hand. "So, there were about 10 horses that were ours, and my mom was like, OCD about them. Before every show, she'd have us groom them for hours, and braid their manes." Spencer smiled at this mental image.

Toby changed his tone then, from seriousness back to flirty. "So. The moral of the story is, I am excellent at braiding hair. Now sit still, young lady," he said, rotating her, so that her hair was within his reach.

He began gently combing through the snarls, his fingers caressing her hair with a feathery-light touch. "Aren't you going to say the traditional, 'tell me if I'm hurting you' line?" Spencer asked jokingly.

Toby tsked in response. "Spencer. I would never hurt you," he said simply.

Spencer smiled, shutting her eyes. She was beyond exhausted from the day's events. Her smile became even wider as she imagined the look on Hanna's face when she told her that, "_your boyfriend can hack phones? Cool story. Mine braids my hair." _

After about 20 minutes, Toby had finished an exquisite french braid. "You could make more money doing this for a living than you do in Yardley," Spencer said, admiring his masterpiece.

Toby laughed, hugging her close. Spencer yawned against him. "Mmm, you're sleepy," Toby remarked, kissing her neck softly, "do you want me to take you home?"

Spencer gazed lovingly into the beautiful blue eyes of the man she loved. Before she had found him, there had never been anyone or anything in Spencer's life that had the ability to make her feel as she did now. It was him. It will always be him, everyday for the rest of her life, she was sure. His previous question danced through her mind: _do you want me to take you home?_

Spencer placed her hands on Toby's shoulders, and kissed him with every fragment of passion she possessed. _Do you want me to take you home?_

Spencer smiled at him. "Toby Cavanaugh," she said, shaking her head.

He eyed her skeptically. "…Yes?"

"As long as I'm with you, I am home."


End file.
